


shaking all over

by kittenscully



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Biting, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Episode: s09e19-20 The Truth, Reunion Sex, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:15:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28370739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenscully/pseuds/kittenscully
Summary: Below her chin, the expanse of his skin is warm in the growing light. He is bedding down in her, his leg shifting to cover hers, and she knows that he could sleep, now, for awhile. But there is so much of him, heavy and beautiful and unmarked, and it’s been so long, and she doesn’t want to let him drift away.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 9
Kudos: 103





	shaking all over

Dawn is creeping in under the blinds, and Mulder is marking her breasts. 

His face buried warm atop her sternum, the broad length of his body draped against her side. Both of them propped halfway up against the wall. Between her legs, his palm, not touching so much as holding, a possessive gesture that she slides against, slippery and wet. 

The evening before, they’d made love, a reunion with no sharp edges. His mouth strumming her clit until she tugged him up, eased him in slow. The whole time, she had clung to his broad shoulders, the readjustment an ache and pull even as he treated her unimaginably gently, murmuring against her lips how he’d missed her.

“What did you do for all that time, on your own?” Scully asks, soft, trailing her fingers through his hair. Wondering again who had taken care of him. 

The expanse of his back is bronzed and gorgeous, rippled with muscle from sun and effort. His teeth dig in, and she gasps, then relaxes, tears coming to her eyes. The bruise will be angry. She’s longed for him, like drought.

“Nothing important,” he mumbles.

“Mulder,” she insists, breath catching as he bites at her nipple. 

She’s been waiting for this. For him to break, grip her too tightly, take what he wants. Reassure himself of the reality of her. She doesn’t need him to talk, not really, but his face is hidden, and she misses him.

“You weren’t with me,” he says, by way of explanation. “Wasted time.”

Her eyes fill again, and this time, it’s from loving him. 

They’ve barely slept, wired and wrapped up in each other. When she’d drifted off, he had awoken her soon after, wide-eyed and needing, and she had spread her knees to accommodate his searching fingers without a word. _Yes, I am real. Yes, all of me is yours._

She’s still reeling. Slicked with sweat, humming with need. And Mulder is no longer gentle. 

He sucks on a mouthful of her skin, the silky underside of her breast, and she squirms as if she wants it to stop. Between her legs, a single finger presses inside, something to clamp down on as he reclaims her desperately. 

The pleasurable pain has made her tighter, like new, and she wonders how he’d fit three such a short time ago. 

His hand rocks against her, single digit rippling inside, and he lifts his head. The sight of his face tugs at her, through her ribs. The weathered lines of his brow, his nose. His full, swollen lips. His eyes, dark and wild, a lonesome conqueror placing his flag in the center of her gravity. 

“Scully,” he tells her, low. “I want you to come again.”

She gasps in air, unsure of whether she can, so soon. Until he said it, the idea hadn’t even crossed her mind, and yet, the feeling is already creeping up her spine. 

“Mulder, I –”

“For me,” he insists, and he looks so certain. “I want you to come for me.”

His palm slides against her clit, and she shakes, her chin wobbling. For him, her pleasure is an affirmation, a promise. A declaration that she is his. She wants to give it to him, wants him to take it from her. 

He is making up for lost time, wasted time. 

“Again,” he insists, and his palm slides against her clit, a second finger nudging at her entrance. “Scully, I need it.”

She shies away from the pressure, imagines how his cock would split her right now, cleave her in two. Break her down to the sum of her parts. The idea makes her shudder, feverish, and her heels dig into the bed, knees parting as she drips onto his knuckles.

The second finger slides home, and as Mulder’s teeth close again around her nipple, bite-swollen and oversensitive, she breaks. 

The climax is sudden and quick, rushing through her just under the skin, and she whines, squirming and clutching the back of his neck. In the moment of blurriness after, Scully is barely aware of his mouth shifting to her throat, processing only the faint ache and the drag of his tongue.

One last nip, and then the words come flooding back to him. He tells her he loves her, kisses across her collarbone, his palm gentle on the inside of her thigh. 

“So good for me, Scully, honey,” he murmurs, nuzzling at her affectionately. Something deep in her abdomen shifts, wakes up. “Mine.”

Below her chin, the expanse of his skin is warm in the growing light. He is bedding down in her, his leg shifting to cover hers, and she knows that he could sleep, now, for awhile. But there is so much of him, heavy and beautiful and unmarked, and it’s been so long, and she doesn’t want to let him drift away. 

She isn’t finished.

Lifting her head, she leans down, and sinks her teeth into his trapezius. The surge of tension that ripples through his frame makes her toes curl. 

“Scully,” he gasps. 

One hand slinking through his hair, the other gripping the ball of his shoulder. She gnaws at him slowly, hot skin and living, straining muscle under her tongue Thinks of how he will bruise, purple and tender and hers. 

When she releases him with a wet pop, Mulder is panting, squeezing a handful of her thigh. The color spreads where she’d left it, on the tensed muscle, and pent up energy starts to build in her stomach, animalistic and new. _All of you is mine._

Tugging his head to the side, Scully latches onto his neck, thick tendons and the beat of his pulse. He groans, surprised. Before, he’d never liked pain, hissing even at the drag of her nails down his back. But they have both changed, and as she nips at him, his cock twitches against her leg.

He likes this. 

Arousal stirring in her stomach, she imagines it down to the microscopic, the splitting of capillaries under the skin, the pooling of red-blue rising towards the suction of her mouth. His very biology altered from her touch. Lasting damage, completely under her control. 

No one else will ever hurt him again, she decides, sucking a third mark between the first two, the bulk of his ribcage heaving against her stomach.

All of a sudden, his head lifts towards hers, pupils inky and huge. He is about to speak, she knows, but no sound comes out, only a sharp exhale. She grabs his jaw and bites at his mouth, sloppy and open. 

“Fuck,” he grits out, his fat bottom lip pulling free from between her teeth, body surging against hers as if he means to struggle out of her grip. 

“You’re not leaving me again,” she says, clutching him closer, momentarily afraid he’ll run. 

But he just shakes his head, palming the inside of her knee. “Never.”

His jaw, his nose, his chin. The shell of his ear. She pecks, then nips, his head cradled between her palms. When his mouth lands on hers again, Scully slackens her jaw, kisses him like she means to let him crawl inside her. 

She loves him. As he rises closer, forcing his way into her space, she digs her nails into his shoulderblades, drags them in towards his spine. There will be scratches. His chest presses, hard, against hers, and her breasts ache.

The hurting is good, right. It reminds her that both of them are real, that Mulder won’t go anywhere without her. 

With his tongue tracing her teeth, his hands crawl under her hips, scooping her up by her ass, forcing her back against the wall. He sucks on her upper lip, and she is scrambling to get him closer, allowing him between her legs as he rises onto his knees. 

His waist is broad, bulky with muscle, and just to fit him so closely strains her thighs. Her neck strains too, chin tilted up to keep kissing him. 

The pressure of his abdominals against her sensitive core makes her shudder, but she clasps at his hips with her calves, pulling him in even still. 

Propped up, back flat to the wall, Scully is sure that there has never been so much of him before. She can barely see around the edges of his shoulders, his chest, and doesn’t want to, completely caught up in the solid structure of him against her, in how small and protected she feels. 

The wide plane of his clavicle begs for her mouth, and she plants kisses across the bone like flowers, sucks the skin to make them bloom. He’ll leave fingerprint bruises on the soft flesh of her rear, with how tightly he’s clutching her. 

Between his pectorals, the rough triangle of hair spreads wider than she remembers, unruly wired curls, salty with sweat under her tongue. Before, she had never had the time to taste every inch of his body, even when there was less of him, the nights always slipping away like sand. But things have changed.

She’ll make time.

Sucking on the flesh above his nipple, she draws the layers of skin away from the muscle, jaw opened wide like biting the forbidden fruit. She understands, now, deep in her bones: temptation, hunger, the fall from grace. The irresistible garden of man.

Mulder starts to shift, and she rams her heel into his lower back, keeping him in place. She would rather be on earth, recognizing his nakedness and rubbing herself against it.

Across the field of his chest, she leaves a path of marks, no gentleness left in her. The arousal spreads through his frame, tension catching and releasing, his lungs heaving under her lips. There will be no mistaking who he belongs to. 

He gathers handfuls of her hair, and tugs her head back, forces her wild gaze to his. 

“Scully,” he growls. “Let me fuck you.”

And she climbs him, grabbing at his neck to pull him down, curling her tongue into his mouth. He rocks closer, his erection brushing against her folds, and she is breaking away, nodding, gasping. 

She is making up for lost time, wasted time. 

“ _Please_.”

One hand under her ass, the other lining himself up, and Scully rolls her hips, stretching down to take the head of him inside her, wincing at the ache. 

“Let go,” he tells her, rubbing her thighs, and she does. 

Whether it’s gravity or his big, heated palms dragging her down, she can’t say. The slide of his cock halves her, and as she takes him to the root, she arches, keens. His lips find her forehead, moving softly, soothing her in words she can’t make out.

There is tension near to bursting just under his skin. She wants him to let go. Around the girth of him, she clenches so hard that her eyes water. 

Mulder’s thumb finds her clit, pressing slow circles, and she trembles, clasping her legs around him tightly. It’s almost too much, too soon, and she pushes at his chest with a whimper, but he kisses her right between her brows, hushes her. 

“C’mon, baby, I’ve got you,” he murmurs, voice strained in the humid air. “Relax for me.” 

She burrows into his chest, nuzzles the ropey scar still lingering across his breastbone, a low, mourning sound pushing up her throat. He clasps the back of her head, tells her he loves her. She grabs ahold of his biceps, velvet and solid, and melts around him.

“ _Fuck_ me.” 

As he starts to move, she buries her teeth in his collarbone again, revels in the groan he lets out into her hair. There is no patience this time, no slow start, his thrusts immediately quick and punishing, forcing her open, splaying her against the wall. 

Sheltered by the hulk of his body, Scully is altered, overwhelmed, all sensation and hunger. The involuntary trembling of her thighs in his palms, the ache of his intrusion. The satisfaction of reducing him to need, spurring him to take her like this. The raw want curling in her stomach, the soreness in her jaw from working him over. 

Mulder is gasping already, and she needs him to come in a desperate, immediate way, like needing to breathe. 

Shoving her hand between their bodies, she rubs at her clit desperately. Sinks her teeth into his chest as she forces herself over the edge again mercilessly, spasming around his cock, the climax white hot, scouring her down to the bone. 

In the moment of blackness, she feels him shudder, burying himself to the hilt as he follows. 

As the light seeps back into her field of vision, he softens, slippery warm inside her. She gasps for air, links her ankles around his waist, walks her hands up his shoulders to cup the back of his neck. There will be no pulling away. 

“Mine,” she breathes, raspy and raw, a wave of emotion rising in her chest. She drives her forehead into his sternum. 

His chin bumps against her as he nods, his palms smoothing through her hair. Every place he’s marked her throbs, her whole body quivering, and it still doesn’t feel like enough. 

“No more wasted time,” he tells her, barely more than a whisper. His cheek lays against the crown of her head. “I’m with you.”

**Author's Note:**

> "Then Hwin, though shaking all over, gave a strange little neigh and trotted across to the Lion.
> 
> "Please," she said, "you're so beautiful. You may eat me if you like. I'd sooner be eaten by you than fed by anyone else."
> 
> – C.S. Lewis, _The Horse and His Boy_


End file.
